Whirlwind (2 page)

“Can you recommend one over another?” A lock of thick black hair fell over his bronze forehead. When he lifted his left hand to push it back, his shirtsleeve hiked up, exposing a hard bicep and the tip of a lightning bolt tattoo.

On impulse, she grabbed his arm and pulled it close to her body then pushed up the sleeve. A yellow jagged slash swirled with red and outlined in black ran along the outside of his upper arm. “You have a tattoo by Taima?”

His head dipped in a quick nod. “Yeah, he’s a clansman.”

Senna traced a fingernail along the crisp edges of the black inking, fighting the tremble that started low in her belly. Now that she had her hands on his body, she didn’t want to let go. “I thought you might be Hopi. Love the belt buckle.”

Eyebrow raised, he glanced at his waist and a smile grew on his lips. When he looked up, his dark eyes shone with a secretive light and the skin at the corners crinkled. “Thanks for the compliment.”

“I’m a connoisseur of sorts. Of tats, not buckles.” The heat of his arm warmed her hands, and she couldn’t stop caressing his tight muscles. “Any other tats by well-known artists?”

His gaze capturing hers, he shrugged. “A dreamcatcher behind my left shoulder by Tom Niyol.”

She gasped and turned. “A Niyol? I have one, too.” With a thumb, she hooked the top of her jeans and rolled down the waistband two inches. “Whenever I run into him at a show, I have him add a bit of color to the feathers.”

His calloused forefinger ran over the soft exposed skin of her hip. “Nice. Any others?”

At his touch, as sensual as she’d imagined earlier, a shiver ran through her. A touch that intoxicated her and made her want for more. Did she dare reveal her other tats? But here? “Only if you’ll show me yours.”

His dark gaze held hers for a heartbeat before he winked. “I like a bold woman.”

On pure instinct, she grabbed his hand and pulled him behind the curtained-off area of her booth. For what she planned, privacy was essential. She stepped back, leaning a hip against the padded table. A distance necessary to prevent her from grabbing his body, crushing his hardness against her softness, and letting her lust-filled imagination drive the action. “Show me the dreamcatcher.”

With a casual shrug, he dropped the vest off his shoulders and tossed it toward a chair. His gaze pinned her. Next, he tugged the hem of the T-shirt from his jeans and slowly pulled it over his head.

As the rising shirt bared his skin, Senna watched in fascination at the revelation of sculpted abs and a tight, hard chest. Oh my! The urge to smooth her fingers over his bronzed skin was strong, and to delay the gratification she hoped would come, she stuffed her hands into her jeans pockets.

“Turn—” She cleared her suddenly dry throat. “Turn around, please.”

Chev turned his back toward her and crossed his arms over his chest, making the inked feathers suspended from the webbed loop shimmy.

She had to press her lips together to stifle her gasp of admiration. This man looked like a warrior from her grandmother’s tribal legends. Determined, brave, confident. Unable to resist, she moved forward and touched the etched lines on his back, appreciating the drawing. The feathers hung at an angle as if pressed by a soft breeze.

Chev’s head turned, and he glanced sideways, his gaze intentful. “Like what you see?”

“The artistry is fantastic.” She placed her thumb and first two fingers around the hoop and stretched the skin. “Good depth of color.” Superb muscle tone on a body like his always helped an artist. A body Senna felt instinctively and irresistibly drawn to. She trailed fingers over his shoulder and again traced the jagged bolt on his left arm. “This one, too.”

Eyebrows raised, he moved his hands to rest on his waist. “Now, one of yours. If you have more.”

If the man only knew. She undid a couple of buttons at the open neck of her eyelet blouse and eased back the fabric, pulling aside her bra strap to reveal a green shape on the front of her shoulder. “This turtle was created by an Algonquin named Red Bear the summer I interned in the northeast.”

He stepped closer and squinted, angling his head. A hand rose to the neckline of her blouse and loosened another button, his knuckles grazing the valley between her breasts.

Blood raced through her body, and she sucked in a breath, her chest pressing against his hand. Need tugged low in her belly, and her pussy tingled. Only tight control kept her from swaying forward. Her entire body ached for his touch.

His glance connected with hers, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Can’t see the whole design.” His hand moved up and eased the blouse and her bra strap over her shoulder. His gaze lowered to her upper chest. “Nice detailing.”

A rich herbal scent tickled her nose, and she swayed closer, only inches from his sculpted lips. What was it about this man that drew her? Made her want to go down on her hands and knees and howl like a she-wolf while he pummeled into her from behind? The moment the primal image crossed her mind, her breath quickened and her skin flushed.

Focus on the banter
. She inhaled, and her eyelids drifted closed. She was losing the struggle against succumbing to his charm. Every heart beat thrummed need through her veins, a slow, steady pulsing that dampened her panties and kept her nipples ruched. “What else can you show me?”

The lightest of touches brushed her eyelids. “Not sure I can offer better than what you’re imagining.”

Her eyelids popped open, and she connected with his knowing dark gaze only inches away. A gaze that searched hers, making a connection that seemed to touch her soul. Her mouth dried and she swallowed hard. “The deal was sharing tats.”

“So it was.” A chuckle escaped his lips.

At the whisper of his hot breath across her cheek, she squared her shoulders to brush the tight buds of her nipples against the restraining bra. Jolts of sensation targeted her pussy lips, and she had to bite back a groan.

The scuff of his boots sounded against the concrete as he toed one off. He bent, stripped off his sock, and pushed up his jeans leg to expose a firm calf. A band of repeated symbols circled his lower leg.

Senna squatted at his side and cupped her hand around his rock-hard calf, rubbing her thumb over the markings. “A migration band.” Forcing her gaze to the tattoo, she tried to ignore the heat of his skin and the pull of his strength, the part of Chev that spoke to her as a woman. “Interesting choice.”

“More a statement of solidarity.” He ran a hand lightly over her hair and grazed her cheek before extending it, palm up. “What other treasures, uh, tattoos, will you display?”

With her hand clasped in his large one, she rose to her full height and gazed at his enticing bare chest—pecs taut and bulging, dotted with deep bronze disks. The skin was tight and smooth, marked only by an inch-long scar near his collarbone. Her question of how that happened could wait until another time. Now, she thought of her remaining half dozen tats, deciding which to unveil next. As she enjoyed the sight of his body, she loosened the rest of the buttons and eased her blouse down her arms.

Dark eyes widened with sexual heat, and his nostrils flared. His intent gaze roved her torso before meeting hers. “What should I be seeing?”

Disappointment curled in her stomach. She’d wanted to put them on more of an equal basis with the amount of bared skin but had definitely anticipated a different response. With a twist, she angled her right shoulder in his direction. “It’s here on my shoulder blade. A hummingbird done the summer I spent under Jake Bearclaw’s tutelage.”

A finger slid on her skin along the ridge of her shoulder, outlining the bird’s shape. “The green shimmers.”

Heat built along her skin under his touch. Unable to resist, she rolled her shoulder, prolonging the sensation created by a man’s callused hand on her body. “His trade secret—one he never shared.” Her words were breathless, the temptation to lean back into his body almost overwhelming.

His hand cupped her shoulder and pulled her around to face him. “You traveled each summer? Part of a college program?”

“Museums, arts councils. I’m resourceful and scrounged for grants wherever I could get them.” She bit her lower lip before answering, unsure about revealing her desire to discover her true ancestry. “Nothing wrong with wanting to see the country.”

“Keep that up, lady—” his heated gaze centered on her mouth “—and our challenge here is over.”

Finally. An admission of his attraction. A dam inside her burst, letting her desire rule her movements. She anchored her hands on his ribs and pulled him close. “You, Chev, have said the magic words.” She tilted up her face and stretched to press a kiss on his waiting lips. The combustion was instantaneous and electric.

His arms snaked around her and wrapped her against the solidness of his chest. He widened his stance and pulled her body flush with his, pressing her hips close with a hand at her lower back.

“Oh yeah.” As he groaned, his words tickled her ear. “You feel as good as I’d hoped.”

With her hands gripping his hard back, the heat from his body invading hers, and the scent of warm male filling her head, Senna’s senses were on overload. Blood rushed to her head—his magnetism made her reel. “And I hope you’re ready to make me feel even better.”

His body stilled, and he eased backward until their gazes met. “We’re done sharing our body art?”

“I’ll give you the quick tour.” She pulled back, hands struggling with the button on her jeans. The zipper grated downward, and she yanked apart the fabric. “The butterfly on this hipbone was done by an Iroquois known as Orenda. This dragonfly by a Navaho named Charlie Ooljee.”

Chev stepped back and let his gaze wander her exposed skin in a methodical path. “These are nice.” He stretched out a finger and traced the outline of insects, running his finger along the elastic band of her bikini panties. “But not as fine as the body I see.”

“That tickles.” She shivered and leaned over to shove the jeans down her legs, her heavy braid flipping over her shoulder. “This migration band—”

A warm hand slid along her spine and nimbly unhooked her bra closure.

At the sudden action, she gasped. The silky fabric popped loose and fell forward, along her arms. She straightened, grabbing for the scrap then met his gaze and let her arms fall lax at her sides. The bra landed at her feet.

The molten heat in his eyes was like a velvet caress. In response, her nipples perked to full attention, sending tingles straight to the heaviness at the pit of her stomach. Building arousal made her sway, and she grabbed his shoulder to steady herself as she kicked aside her jeans.

A strong arm wrapped around her back and pulled her close, his dark stare, hot and piercing. “Done with the tease show?”

She crinkled her brows. “What?”

“Like you don’t know what your swaying and shimmying caused?” His hand lowered to her ass and pulled her against his groin, then hissed in a breath.

Against the rock-hard bulge behind his fly.

“Those were nothing. I spent a summer in Vegas and learned gyrations, high kicks, and even a bit of pole dancing.” She shifted her hips, ran a knee along the inside of his thigh, and rubbed her belly against his hardness.

A growl sounded low in his throat, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “Senna, you’re sure…”

Damn sure. “I go after what I want.” Her heart rate kicked up a notch.

“But here?”

Her gaze met his, staring into the obsidian depths flecked with the darkest brown triangles, and she gave him a slow wink. “Live in the moment, Chev.” Her hands ran along his ribs, scooted over his stomach to his belt buckle, and tugged. “Appreciate what’s right at hand.” The closure held tight, and she yanked again. “If I could get this undone, I could appreciate you.”

“Let me.” His hands moved to the silver buckle, twisted, and the closure unclasped.

When he didn’t undo the zipper, she swallowed hard and worried that she’d been too brazen. Not all guys appreciated her bluntness—some had scoffed at her forward manner. But that wasn’t the type of man she’d judged him to be. Unable to resist, she reached out and cupped his cock through his jeans, flexing her fingers over its girth. Still hard and bulging.

Chev breathed in a quick breath and braced his legs. “Yes, lady, I’m hot for you.”

Her fingers caressed in a subtle massage, letting her actions clue him in on how much she wanted him. She hooked two fingers into his waistband and pulled him close. “Show me the rest of your hard body.”

Her lips pressed against his, and her tongue teased at his lips, savoring the firm texture of his mouth.

Rough hands cupped her jaws and held her head still while he deepened the kiss, alternating between deep strokes of his tongue and gentle laps along her teeth and lips.

Her pulse beat faster at the invasion, and moisture soaked her panties. The tang of arousal filled the air, inciting her own lust. She wanted his hard cock inside, filling her.

Chev lowered a hand to cup her right breast, rolling her nipple between his warm fingers. His lips traced a hot trail of kisses along the side of her neck.

Goosebumps ran over her skin at his touch. She hooked a calf around his leg and rubbed her mons on his upper thigh. A moan built at the back of her throat and hummed at her lips. For a second, she thought about ripping off his jeans. Instead, she rubbed her hands over his chest, enjoying the texture of tight muscles under smooth skin. The scent of sage clung to his skin, and she breathed deeply.

He eased his mouth along her cheek, planting hot kisses to her ear. “I need you.” His hands circled her waist, and he lifted her to the padded table.

Finally. Her breath caught in her throat. She gripped his shoulders then scooted backward, loving the look of concentration on his face as he scanned the area. A small table, a backless stool, a folding chair, and her padded tattoo table.

“Lie down.”

With quick movements, he unzipped his pants and skimmed them down his lean hips. Black briefs hugged his tight ass and cupped his heavy cock.

She was almost content just watching the languid actions of his toned body.